2:12 P.M. – Somewhere in the Province
The sun was warm, the wind gentle, and the slow rustle of trees brought a rare moment of peace to Clark Evernight, who was on his first real day off in months.
He had returned to his old hometown — a small, sleepy province with dusty roads, friendly neighbors, and an absurd number of goats for some reason. Everything felt quieter here. Calmer. Normal.
He missed normal.
Wearing a hoodie two sizes too big, Clark walked aimlessly through the fields and lightly forested areas behind his Lola's farm. His thoughts wandered — to life, to work, to rumors he pretended didn't bother him, and to one very specific CEO he couldn't stop thinking about.
> "Why do you care so much?"
"It doesn't matter."
"You're not ready."
The words replayed like a stuck radio in his brain.
"…Jerk," he muttered aloud.
A butterfly fluttered past.
Clark didn't even notice he was already off the beaten trail.
Then he saw it.
A cave — hidden partially behind hanging vines and overgrown ferns, nestled near the base of a mossy hillside.
"Whoa," he whispered. "Was this always here?"
Most people would've turned back.
Clark was not most people.
"This is definitely how horror movies start," he muttered with a grin, pushing the vines aside.
And with zero hesitation, he stepped inside.
---
2:30 P.M. – Deeper in the Cave
It was cool inside. Damp, but oddly quiet. The kind of quiet that made you feel like the cave itself was holding its breath.
Clark walked carefully, cell phone flashlight on, peeking into small cracks and paths like an excited child in a museum.
"I'm gonna take a selfie and scare Zara," he said to no one.
He didn't notice the narrow dip in the ground.
Until it gave way.
"Wait—WHAT—!"
His scream echoed as he fell through the floor.
And then—
Thud.
He hit something hard.
Sharp pain sliced across his thigh and arm, followed by the metallic scent of blood.
---
2:45 P.M. – Elsewhere, Deep in the Mountains
A secret vampire council had assembled in the ruins of an old stone villa, cloaked by glamour spells and illusions.
Inside, Diablo Von Bloodick and Hakuro stood near the edge of a long table, surrounded by vampire elders from across the world.
Their old leader, a regal vampire named Calverius, was speaking in a deep, ancient tone.
"…and the decision must be made by this evening. The next leader shall guide the balance between our kind and theirs."
Diablo's attention, however, suddenly shifted.
He stiffened.
Hakuro's head tilted slightly, as if hearing something faint.
Then, almost in unison, their eyes sharpened.
A scent.
Blood.
Human.
Fresh.
Nearby.
Not just any blood — familiar.
The other vampires began reacting, murmurs rising.
Some stood, noses twitching.
"What is that smell?"
"Human blood?"
"It's… calling to me—"
Calverius barked, "Control yourselves!"
But the scent was too strong.
Too rich.
Too close.
Diablo and Hakuro shared a look.
They knew.
Even before they said it aloud, they knew whose blood it was.
And it wasn't just any human.
> Clark.
Without a word, they vanished in a blur of supernatural speed, far faster than any of the other vampires reacting to the scent.
---
3:00 P.M. – Inside the Cave
The fall had only been a few meters, but it was enough.
Clark lay unconscious in the dark, blood pooling slowly from his thigh.
He didn't hear the footsteps — or rather, the wind shift — as Diablo dropped into the chamber with terrifying precision.
Diablo's eyes were glowing.
But not from hunger.
From alarm.
He knelt beside Clark immediately.
"Clark," he said, voice low and urgent.
No response.
He hovered a hand over the bleeding wound.
Too much.
Too strong.
It was attracting every vampire in the region.
With a low breath, Diablo pressed his palm over the wound — not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to channel energy.
A faint red glow passed through his fingers as he whispered an incantation in a forgotten vampire dialect.
The bleeding slowed.
Clark stirred.
His eyes fluttered open.
For a brief moment, he saw a face — pale skin, sharp brows, red eyes dimmed with concern.
"…D-Diablo?" he whispered.
Diablo stilled.
Their eyes met.
Then Clark's head fell back softly, unconscious once more.
---
3:07 P.M. – Outside the Cave
Hakuro landed lightly at the cave's mouth, scanning the forest.
He saw Diablo emerge seconds later, holding Clark in his arms.
The smell of blood had mostly faded now — healed and sealed.
Hakuro stepped forward. "He's okay?"
Diablo nodded. "He needs treatment. But nothing life-threatening now."
They didn't speak about the fear they both felt when they smelled it.
Diablo's jaw tightened.
"Bring him to the nearest town. Let the humans see him arrive safely. Make it look like he passed out hiking."
Hakuro took Clark carefully. "You're not going?"
Diablo turned back toward the woods, his red eyes narrowing.
"I need to handle the others… before they go looking."
Hakuro nodded. "Understood."
---
4:00 P.M. – Back in Civilization
Clark was dropped off at a small hospital on the edge of town by a "concerned passerby" — aka Hakuro using a borrowed jacket and a fake name.
The staff took him in, patched his wound, and started asking questions Clark couldn't answer when he finally woke up hours later.
But even as the nurse asked if he remembered anything…
Clark's mind kept returning to one image.
A face in the dark.
Red eyes.
Whispered words.
And that strange feeling of safety.
Even now, his heart was still pounding.
And he couldn't explain why.